Correction to my exhortation to Dubya (below): Before you nuke Iraq, nuke Hollywood!

Jeez, Sly. Give it a rest will ya!

Quick, Dubya! Nuke Iraq in the next three days. Sean Penn will be there!

Hey everyone, guess what? I'm a real wordsmith after all. I just found out I was a finalist in the Writer's Spot International Spring Short Story Competition. See, there's my name, half way down the list! Credibility at last!

This is great news. It means I can take the opus I've been working on for the last ten years to a publisher and say, "See, I'm a true artist. Now will ya publish me collection of filthy limericks, or what?"

From a shockin' opinion piece (linked below) to a really good one: have a look at this dissection of Trent Lott. It's a pearler.

(And regarding the kerfuffle Lott caused in "liberal" circles: Why do the fluffs get so upset about someone espousing segregation? Their separatist view of the world has more in common with segregation than not. Like the self described "militant" pacifists, the irony of their position escapes them completely.)

How on earth does Fitzy the Boofhead keep his gig? This is supposed to be an opinion piece. But what's his opinion; what's he trying to say?

This: "Teachers are grouse. So, to all youse grouse teachers who are retiring I'd like to say, er,... I think you're grouse."

There, all over and done with in about twenty words (and it could have been cut back to just three: "teachers are grouse"). What the hell are they paying this guy for?

(I know! He's an ongoing community service announcement about the dangers of sport. The Fairfax editors want to say, "Look, fellas, this is the kind of damage you can do to your intellect when you stick your head up countless blokes' arses in rugby scrums for several years and don't wear a helmet. Play safe, now."

Mel Gibson is to star in a new Mad Max fillum called Fury Road. What a crap title. Well, it least it's better than "Anger Avenue".

I imagine that a lot of the spoiled, malevolent yokels in the anti-globo movement will be avidly reading this book over the silly season.

Why do I do this readers? I'm not earning any money from it. And I don't have the slightest clue who's reading this -- if anyone is. You might all just be other bloggers -- weird, dyspeptic sociopaths just like me!

Ugh! Frightening.

Britney Spears' ascent into the very top tier of Celebritalia is now complete. See, she has a stalker.

This whole obsessed fan caper really confuses me. I mean, I always feel it's like the stars who are the real stalkers. After all, they're the ones with the greatest, most pathological need for attention (and not just from one person, but millions!). And they seek to feed that need round the bloody clock, at every opportunity!

Gee, it'safunnyoldworldinnit!

A couple of drearily PC Canadians have decided to become human shields against a possible Seppolian attack on Iraq.

I suspect that this tactic might just backfire. Knowing how deep the Seppolian disdain for their northern neighbours is, it might provoke Dubya into even faster, more brutal action.

But then, it might help avoid war, too. The terminal dullness of the well-intentioned Canadians may well deaden the fighting spirit of the Iraqi army so severely that they'll just surrender unconditionally.